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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27737245">cinnamon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/blushandbooks/pseuds/blushandbooks'>blushandbooks</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Julie and The Phantoms (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:55:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,017</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27737245</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/blushandbooks/pseuds/blushandbooks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanksgiving with the Molina family  -- featuring some new additions.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Julie Molina/Luke Patterson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>412</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>cinnamon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So I hinted at a tumblr anon in my inbox that I was writing this and they were like uwu finish it and so here it is. The Thanksgiving oneshot that no one asked for that should have been about 1000 words and ended up being 3000 words</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Can I stop mixing now?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, the eggs need to thicken the mixture."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It seems thick already. Haven't the eggs done enough?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julie finishes placing the spices on the counter in front of her while she watches Luke hopelessly keep cycling the hand mixer around the bowl. For some reason, even though he's a ghost, his muscles hurt. He keeps needing to switch hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But, when Julie smiles at his joke, he remembers that it's worth it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You're doing great, Luke. Just hang in there."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Whatever you say, Boss."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He watches her blush while she thinks he isn't looking -- and uses the energy boost he gains from it to mix the pumpkin filling in the bowl faster.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After Julie bursted into the garage one day, exclaiming her excitement for the upcoming holiday for the sole reason of knowing the feast her family will prepare, Luke remembered his Thanksgivings with his own family, full of stuffing and pie and turkey-induced naps. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He also noticed how his bandmates and best friends seemed to noticeably recall their past lives as well -- which is why he chased Julie down the driveway, grabbed her hand, and pleaded for a Bandsgiving. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(He'll recall the story saying he pleaded. She'll say he chased her down the driveway, flirted his ass off with her, and proposed the idea with his gaze humbly down at his feet while she enthusiastically agreed to his idea.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since the guys became corporeal, they can eat… Most of the time. It seemed like a shot in the dark, but a few patterns that they noticed included moments of high emotions, plus Julie's presence, plus a hell of a lot of focus. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They're pretty confident they could manage for a little Thanksgiving. So, Julie talked to Ray about the leftovers going to the boys -- hes still adjusting to the whole ghost thing, but hes getting there -- and told her dad that the boys would even pitch in a little.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By boys, she meant Luke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(Alex had an existential fear of stoves after a Hanukkah incident with some burning latkes, and Julie just… Thought Reggie would be better as an observer when Tía and Ray worked on the main event.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And by pitching in, she meant something small that they couldn't mess up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(Enter the pumpkin pies. Julie would make them with her mom when she was really little, and knows that they are pretty easy. And, apparently, it is Luke's favorite pie.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Smiling at her exasperated bandmate as he continues to sorely mix the pumpkin mixture, Julie goes to check the crust that is completing a light pre-bake in the oven before returning to the island where Luke is working diligently. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, now we get to mix in the spices-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke’s face ignites in a smile as his hand slows its movements. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Can I do that part? My mom always used to let me. I like a lot of cinnamon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julie's entire face softens into a wide grin at his words. Nodding, the two of them switch places and Luke excitedly begins picking up the small plastic containers to read which is which. Pumpkin scent fills the air between them, and the kitchen is warm -- the environment is happy. Spending time with the people you love the most during the holidays makes things infinitely better. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay, cinnamon. Let's go." Luke holds the canister in front of him, and places his hand over the top of the lid to pop open the side with the small sprinkling holes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But as soon as he dumps the container upside down to begin shaking the cinnamon into the filling, the two teens observe a mountain of strongly-scented powder tumble into the bowl.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke opened the wrong side of the lid. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh my God!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julie's arm stops moving as quickly as her jaw drops at the sight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Shit," Luke sighs, looking at the mountain of cinnamon like if he glared at it long enough, half of the powder would evaporate into thin air. "Can we… I don't know, can we take some of it out?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looks at him as if he just asked if 2+2 was 5. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No, it's in there now. We're not getting it back." Huffing, a determined look falls upon Julie's face, and she grasps the mixer to begin folding in the cinnamon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Jules, what are you-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"We just have to try. It can't be that bad."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thirty seconds later, after the cinnamon has been blended into the mixture, both of them dip their fingers in for a taste test -- and wince.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Wow</span>
  </em>
  <span>," Luke says, shocked. He smacks his lips together at the strong taste. "If we wanted to spike that with something, we might actually get away with it. Shit, that's strong."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On any other occasion, such a comment would have Julie rolling her eyes and whipping her baking partner with the kitchen towel. But today, Luke gets a different reaction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julie bursts out laughing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke, confused and simultaneously relieved, chuckles awkwardly as Julie continues to laugh hysterically. His thoughts stray from the chaotic mess of a pie they are baking to how he rarely gets to see Julie laugh this hard -- but he loves it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she calms herself down, she doesn't notice how Luke has been staring at her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, oh my God. I just started laughing because this tastes so strong that I genuinely considered finding something to spike it with just for the hell of it."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This elicits a genuine, amused laugh from Luke. Julie joins in briefly, before glancing back down at the orange concoction in the bowl in front of her; curls falling into her face. Instinctively, Luke extends his hand to brush them out of her face and behind her ears, and suddenly, her focus leaves the pie entirely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fire rolls in her stomach before Luke breaks their eye contact and clears his throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay, Boss. What do I gotta do to fix this?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The air leaves her lungs, and suddenly, the tension has dissipated yet again. The two of them start shuffling around the kitchen, trying to fix the disaster they have created, and easily cure it by adding a little more condensed milk, another egg, and a spoonful of pumpkin paired with a dusting of nutmeg. The amount of filling has grown, there will definitely be some left over, and the cinnamon is still strong -- but on the bright side, the two of them seem it to be tolerable.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After pouring the filling into the crust and placing it back in the oven, Luke and Julie jokingly sigh with relief. Rushing in front of where he is standing, Julie hoists herself up onto the countertop in front of Luke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Nice work, partner," she smiles, finally able to be eye level with him. Suddenly flirtatious, the brown haired boy walks closer to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Back at ya. Now… How long does that pie need to bake?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julie mockingly taps her chin with her index finger.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hmm… I don't know, maybe 15 minutes?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Like a magnet, Luke gravitates toward her, and places his hands on the counter right next to her legs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What do you want to do in those 15 minutes?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julie knows he's just being mean, and messing around with her, but it doesn't make her any less tempted to lean in a little further and close the gap between them-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Mija!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ray comes barreling into the kitchen from the front door, with Victoria in tow. Julie is so shocked that she jumps and slams her head back into the cabinet, causing Luke to move even closer towards her out of concern. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Shit, are you okay?" The ghost's hand is quick to reach up and cup the back of her head as he shifts to stand directly between her legs. Julie's heart is pounding for a variety of reasons. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sorry Julie. We didn't mean to scare you! I am just so excited to taste that pie that you cooked up!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tía runs towards her niece, and even though she could easily pass through Luke to give Julie a hug, he moves aside anyways. The air around her feels chilled in his absence, and she sends him a deeply apologetic look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(Maybe they'll be able to continue… Whatever that was, later.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hi, Tía," she says, gathering her positive energy again. "The pie's in the oven. Luke helped me."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Doubt flashes across Victoria's face -- she is definitely still getting used to the whole "Julie is in a ghost band" thing -- but a supportive smile forms on her face anyways.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's wonderful, cariño. Is he here? Is he saying anything?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julie glances hesitantly to her right, smiling uncontrollably at Luke, who just has his hands tucked in his pockets. She notices that hes been staring at her the whole time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, but he's not saying anything. They're really good about trying not to talk too much when people are talking to me so I don't get confused."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Again, her aunt gives an awkward nod. But hey, at least she's trying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ray jumps in just in time, looking directly at the spot where Luke is and grinning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thank you for your help, Luke. I'm sure it's going to be great."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At long last, Victoria distanced herself from the counter and Julie is allowed to stand on solid ground once again. Luke automatically appears at her side while Ray and Victoria begin talking about how long the turkey has been in the oven, when they are going to start the potatoes, and which one of them is going to make the salad. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey," Luke whispers in Julie's ear. "Do we know about what time everyones going to be sitting down? The guys were asking me eariler."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Dad?" Julie calls out, pausing the conversation between her father and her aunt. "About what time are we going to start?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Around five," her relatives say in unison. Julie looks over her shoulder to Luke in confirmation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Five it is," he says, winking. "See you later, Boss."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He poofs out without another word, and Julie is left to wonder how in the world she let herself fall for him so fast.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boys pop into the living room at 4:30, Reggie explaining that Alex had said something about "us being guests, and that its respectful to offer a helping hand."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julie greatly takes advantage of the offer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex and Luke are put to work on setting the table, and Reggie is helping Ray carve the turkey. Julie is stationed at the stove above a pot of slowly boiling gravy as Carlos waits impatiently on a barstool and Ray and Victoria run around the kitchen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ay Díos Mío," Tía gapes at the sight of the prepared dining room table. "Who did this?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julie's eyes widen. She often forgets to mention when the guys are around, and it can be easy to miss her talking to them when you're busy in the kitchen on Thanksgiving.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sorry, Tía. I had the guys get everything ready. Luke and Alex. Reggie is helping Dad."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Victoria looks over to where Ray is carving the turkey and observes the freshly cut slices being moved midair to the serving platter next to him. Ray looks up as if he had just realized that a conversation had been occurring.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," he states, slightly confused. "You didn't notice?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julie's aunt's eyebrows knit together as she looks at Ray, clearly frustrated. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Lo siento, mija," she says after a moment. "This whole ghost thing is still a lot for me to get used to."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"God, </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell</span>
  </em>
  <span> me about it," Alex groans, leaning next to Victoria against the kitchen island. "I had a pretty hard time adjusting to it myself."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's okay, Tía," Julie reassures her, smiling both at Victoria and Alex. "We all know it's a lot. But the guys are here to help."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Table's set!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Luke calls out from the dining room area. He's practically beaming at Julie with his accomplishment, letting out his trademark "ta-da" once he's captured her attention. Effortlessly, he jumps over the countertop to stand next to Julie, who is still whisking gravy. "You've been here a long time."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Gravy takes a long time. Table looks great, by the way."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thanks. You do too." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julie's hand stops whisking immediately, and she feels heat prickle up her neck and to her cheeks -- but that can be blamed on the stove. Luke, however, is sporting the same look, with a cute rosy tinge at the tips of his ears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I mean," he continues, and she wonders if he's going to build on his statement or take it back. "I really like that sweater. You look good in orange. And you did that cool thing with your eyeliner that you do for shows sometimes. You look beautiful. Not that you don't always, I mean, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>look beau-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thank you." She cuts him off, and his ears are getting redder by the second, and as much as she wants him to keep going her chest aches enough at what he's already said. "Thank you," she says again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He does that rude lip biting/body scanning thing that he unconsciously does when they're standing close together and having a moment that neither of them can explain. She hates and loves it when he does it, because on one hand, it makes her feel like shes going to explode -- and on the other hand, </span>
  <em>
    <span>it makes her feel like shes going to explode.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You can clearly see her dilemma. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay, we are ready to bring the food to the table!" Ray announces, capturing the attention of every family member in the kitchen. Luke helps Julie pour the gravy into a gravy boat as Tía, Ray, Reggie and Alex all begin to bring trays and bowls of food to the large table. Carlos is already seated, too good to help and only there for the food. This year, there are eight place settings -- one for everyone there, plus Rose, whose seat is at the head of the table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luke and Julie are the last to sit down, and both of them take note on how it seems that Reggie and Alex strategically left two seats open right next to each other for the two of them. Tía is on Julie's right, and Luke is on her left. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Mija," Victoria whispers. "Would you like to make a toast?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An elbow nudge from Luke is all the encouragement she needs to scoot back her chair, stand up, and say a few words about how some of the most important people in her life are sitting at that table, and how she is thankful that she made it through the last year with all of them at her side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm so full," Carlos declares twenty minutes later. "That means it's time for pie! Julie?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm on it."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Alex and Reggie clear the dinner table and Victoria and Ray relax, Luke and Julie get out dessert plates from the cabinets and arrange seven plates of their pumpkin pie. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Incoming!" Julie exclaims, drawing everyones attention back to the idea of dessert. Luke plops the ice cream and whipped cream on the table for whoever wants it -- and by whoever wants it, he means himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julie can't help the nerves she feels as she watches her family dig into the pie, but when Tía's eyebrows shoot up and she begins to nod, Julie knows they have been successful. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"This is killer, Jules," Luke mutters next to her. "We really make a good team no matter what we're doing, huh?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sentiment stirs up Julie's crush -- but she pushes it back down and smiles, taking another bite of the surprisingly delicious pie that her and Luke salvaged hours before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't act so surprised, Patterson. We're just that powerful."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hours pass, after second helpings of dessert, a few power naps, and a couple of songs from Julie and the Phantoms themselves. Suddenly, a miraculous night with Julie's found family has passed before her very eyes, and Tía is giving everyone who she can see a loud kiss on the cheek and a tight hug before putting on her coat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thank you for such a wonderful night," she says to Julie, Ray and Carlos. Then, she focuses on her niece. "Where are your boys?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slightly stunned, Julie gestures to the couch, where her bandmates are lying on top of each other, half asleep. Victoria grins in their direction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Buenos noches, mijos. Thank you for all of your help."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All of their faces perk up -- especially Reggie, who Julie is pretty sure is the only one who knows that "mijos" means "my sons." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For that brief moment, tears raise in her eyes -- her boys are in this family now. They are in a place where they are loved and accepted and involved, and she loves them so much -- she is so, beyond thankful for them. A life without them seems unimaginable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After Victoria leaves, Carlos announces that he is going to bed, and Ray is right behind him. Reggie and Alex even seem like they are going to stick around and crash in the living room that night, even though their sleep situation is still confusing. Before Ray disappears up the stairs, however, he points a stern finger at Julie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't stay up too late with the boys, and no Luke in your room."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(The "No Luke" rule was a little new -- Ray knew that Alex was gay, and that Reggie was practically a brother, and that his daughter and Luke "oozed" chemistry on stage, so Luke was really his only concern. The hard part about the role was enforcing it.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Roger that. Sleep well, Papá. Happy Thanksgiving."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ray gives her a drowsy, but happy, smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You too, mija. Happy Thanksgiving."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as Ray is gone and his bedroom door is heard shutting, Luke is wrapping an arm around Julie's shoulders while they watch Reggie and Alex doze off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Wanna make some tea, and then head up to do some writing?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julie smiles up at him, unable to help herself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(Oh well. Some rules were made to be broken.)</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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